


The Epic Tale of Pon'Age

by AidansQueen



Series: Infinite Diversity [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bukkake, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Minor Violence, Pon Farr, Rough Sex, Sexual Humor, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidansQueen/pseuds/AidansQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has run off with Kirk, The Ambassador is acting strange and Nyota is feeling sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Epic Tale of Pon'Age

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any money from any of it, all of it belongs to those who created Star Trek. 
> 
> Slightly AU, definitely fluffy with some seriously smutty scenes ahead.
> 
> Special thanks to Kerry Lamb for being an awesome beta!

**Earth**

**San Francisco**

“Hey it’s not that bad,” her roommate Gaila says from the bathroom as she combs out her curly red hair, “I mean, you love him…and if it makes him happy being with Kirk then you let him go and let him be happy right?”

“Yeah,” Nyota nods solemnly as she stares up at the ceiling of her bedroom, the place where she has spent the last month in total isolation. She does not hate Spock for leaving her for Kirk; she doesn’t hate Kirk for taking Spock from her. She feels nothing but acceptance mixed with despair. Spock had been a deep love, a devoted love. She had adored him, had loved him since the moment she’d met him. For a time he’d loved her too and she’d been grateful for it, but when that love was suddenly not enough for Spock, when _she_ was not enough for him, he’d left her for Kirk.  She remembered the day he admitted his feelings for Kirk, saw the quiet sorrow and longing in his eyes. She smiled through her tears, accepted that the love of her life loved someone else and let him go.

               Nyota wanted Spock to be happy because she loved him, and if being with Kirk made him happy then she would let him go and deal with the shattered remains of her heart alone.

Granted Gaila would have none of that.

Gaila her best friend, whom joined her in renting an apartment after graduation did everything she could to help her forget Spock. Nyota wasn’t interested in other men though; she just wanted her beloved Vulcan. She did not feel the same fire as she felt with human men; she did not feel the same passion.  Though she’d remained friends with both men, she hasn’t spoken to them since the day Spock left her. Every time she looked at him she shattered apart all over again, unable to hold it together long enough to have a conversation with either of them. Rather than allow them to see her fall apart she’d excuse herself from their presence and disappear into the city, intent on returning to her apartment and hiding there until their shore leave was over. She refused to let Spock or Kirk see how much this devastated her, how truly broken she was. She wanted Spock to be happy, and she knew he would feel guilty if he saw how heartbroken she was.

“Come on Nyota,” Gaila whines as she kicks the mattress Nyota is currently lying on playfully, “Get out of that bed…wash your hair for fucks sake.”

Nyota rolls her eyes and can’t suppress the little grin on her lips as her friend grins back at her, running a hand through the tangled and unwashed mass of black silk framing her face, “Ok yes…I need to wash my hair.”

A shower turned out to be a great idea, the hot water soothing tense muscles and washing away several day’s worth of grime and sweat from lounging around in bed all day watching movies and eating popcorn.

“You got another call,” Gaila says when she emerges from the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.

“Oh?” Nyota says with a quirked eyebrow, glancing at the missed call on her comm unit screen. It was from Spock, who with such a clever mind has probably figured out why she’s been so obviously absent for a month.  She sighs and deletes the message, unable to listen to his voice right now even if everything in her craves to hear it, the soothing sound of his deep voice, both a soothing balm and a poison to her aching heart.

“Were going back to work tomorrow,” Gaila points out as she watches her friend delete the message, “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him Gaila,” Nyota frowns, “I just need some space right now,” she says a little quieter before adding, “Spock worries about me...I know he’s worried about how I’m taking this…and when he worries about me he’ll hound me until I answer him or show up on my doorstep because that’s the most logical action when I don’t respond to his messages. So don’t worry about me avoiding him…” Nyota mutters sadly, “He’ll show up here if I don’t answer in the next say…hour and a half.” Nyota knows he’s smart enough to realize she needs that space, has given her a month to be on her own but a month was long enough in his eyes. He needed to see that she was alright, to know that she was handling this.

She did not want to disappoint him.

“Then it’s a good time to go to the beach huh?” Gaila says, grinning at her friend.

“Yep,” Nyota laughs wiping away the tears that were welling up in her eyes as the two scramble to get there things together for a day at the beach.

**Enterprise**

**Earth**

Shore leave was over and everyone was back to work. Nyota steps aboard the enterprise for the first time in a month, takes a deep breath of the filtered air and smiles. She feels a little better, feels a little more in control of her emotions then she did a month ago. When she passes Spock in the hall she smiles politely, continues walking even as his mouth opens to speak but she doesn’t hear what he says, too absorbed in the PADD in her hands, going over the preparations for departure and ensuring the communications department is ready to go. She is actually proud of herself, proud that she can control her emotions just as good as he can. She might be screaming on the inside but on the outside she is calm and controlled, throwing herself into her work to distract her from the pain.  She fought hard for this career, spent most of her life preparing for it. She refused to let heartbreak destroy her career and her personal life with it. Every day it got a little easier, with Gaila’s help that is. Gaila would bring her good movies and chocolate, they’d go out to the recreational center and sit at the bar and drink Cardassian sunrises while laughing about the events of the day.  It was a month into their assignment when they got the call, a request to return to earth and transport a diplomat to New Vulcan. When they were docked Nyota stood with Kirk and Spock as they watched the diplomat step on board.  They hadn’t been informed of who they were transporting so her presence had been necessary incase translation was required.  When they saw who it was however, Nyota knew that she was no longer needed.

               Ambassador Sarek was a tall man, broad shouldered and strong looking despite the streaks of grey in his dark hair.  He greeted Kirk and Spock, creating polite small talk between the crew before Nyota was given the signal to take him to his guest quarters. As they walk she is silent, going over preparation codes for departure on her PADD. Someone in engineering has lost a key code to access panel number three….

“Lieutenant,” Sarek’s voice cuts into her revelry and she glances back at him, quirking an eyebrow as they stop before the ambassadorial guest quarters, “Yes Ambassador?” she asks with all manner of politeness in her voice, ever the professional officer.

“I request privacy,” he says hesitantly, “it is highly important that I am to be left alone.”

“Yes Ambassador,” Nyota nods in agreement without hesitation, flashes him a dazzling smile and enters the security code for his room. The door slides open and she hands his assistant the packet containing the security code and itinerary of the ship. When he passes her by she notices the Ambassadors hands clasped behind his back, a subtle shake to them despite the grip he holds upon his wrist. She blinks at this, tries not to wonder about it and respects his privacy. His hand trembles and then slips from his grip as he walks, and brushes her hand which was resting prone against her side. The result is instantaneous and _shocking_ ; a jolt of dry telepathic energy crackling up her arm and down to her very toes. It was preceded by a heavy sense of panic, restlessness and _lust_.

The last emotion takes her by surprise and she tries not to let it show on her face, feels the way that lust is shocking directed at _her_. She blushes politely and pull her hands behind her back, quietly apologizing as he does the same, not meeting her gaze because she realizes he must surely know that she felt his emotions in that moment.

The following days are quiet and busy as they traverse the great expanse of space between earth and New Vulcan.  While she works she notices his assistant standing idly near the back of the bridge and wonders why he isn’t with the Ambassador.

“Can I help you?” She asks politely, crossing the bridge to stand beside the nervous looking young Vulcan.

“I apologize,” he begins quietly; “I hope I did not disturb you or your crew. I was merely observing the speed in which we travel to New Vulcan. At my calculations if we are to reach New Vulcan within the next two days we would need to be at warp six.”

“I’m sorry,” Nyota counters politely, using all the charm she has to soothe the nervous Vulcan, “We are unable to test the engines at such a high speed at this time, our chief engineer is working as quickly as possible to resolve any issues with our engines and I assure you as soon as we are able we’ll pick up speed and reach New Vulcan with all haste.”

“This is unacceptable,” he murmurs quietly, a deep frown on his face. The sudden expression surprises her but she hides it quickly, troubled by the fact a Vulcan has been provoked into emotion. What could possibly be troubling him so much that he’d actually _frown_ about it?

“Is everything alright?” Nyota asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Might I speak to you in a more private setting Ms. Uhura?” he says after a long pause.

“Of course,” she smiles and motions towards the turbolift, “Walk with me, the observation deck is lovely at this time of evening.”

Once she alerts Kirk of her whereabouts and finds someone to cover for her, she walks with the young assistant across the observation deck slowly, watching his subtle nervous movements as he clasps his hands behind his back and settles into deep contemplation. “Pardon me sir,” she comments quietly, “I realize this might be intruding…but you seem troubled….is there something wrong?”

After a long pause he nods, stopping to gaze out at the stars through the reinforced windows, “The Ambassador is ill, Ms. Uhura…he will not last more than a couple of days if we do not get him to New Vulcan soon.”

Nyota blinks, tries to calm her breathing as her mind races for an answer. He didn’t seem ill when he arrived but his hands had been shaking. There has been an odd increase in the requirement of food and water for his quarters, a demand that he be left to his privacy and that nobody enters the room save for his assistant.

“Why haven’t you taken him to Doctor McCoy?” Nyota frowns up at the Vulcan, disapproval in her eyes, “if he’s really that sick I’m sure the doctor could at least stabilize him until we reach New Vulcan.”

“ _No_ ,” the assistant says sharply and then clears his throat, lowering his voice to a more acceptable level, “No.”

“If he is sick,” she begins quietly, “ _I would not wish his condition to worsen_ ,” she says in the Vulcan dialects, letting the musical words twist around her tongue like two dancers swaying to unheard music, “ _Is Osu Spohkh aware of his condition?”_

The young assistant seems taken aback by her knowledge in the Vulcan tongue, blinks at her several times before responding, “ _I have not made Osu Spohkh aware of his condition.”_

_“This one will not pry Osu…”_ she pauses for a moment as she recalls his name, “ _T’riel, however this one is concerned for the welfare of S’haile Sarek.”_

_“This one understands,”_ he murmurs back quietly.

“ _Tell this one what ails S’haile Sarek,”_ she asks quietly.

He stiffens in response; the usual Vulcan stoicism falling like a mask settles in place over the wearer, she knows that Vulcan’s are very private and that she is invading Sarek’s privacy. This man is Spock’s father, and she loves Spock regardless of everything, she would not see him hurt by his father’s death, she would help Sarek if she could.

“ _It is not spoken of_ ,” T’riel responds with a hard look in his eyes as he turns away from her, the tips of his ears tinged green.

“ _I see_ ,” Nyota says with a quirked eyebrow and wonders what exactly is going on here. Why was T’riel acting so strange? Why was Sarek, the ever charming and social Ambassador suddenly isolating himself? T’riel’s nervous behavior and Sarek’s isolation were beginning to grate at her nerves. If somebody didn’t tell her what was going on _soon_ , she was going to tell Spock.

_“Can this one help S’haile Sarek in any way?”_ she asks, watching the green flushing the tips of his ears sudden travel to his cheeks as he stares down at his feet.

_“We must get to New Vulcan as quickly as possible Lieutenant,”_ he responds as he clears his throat, pushing his embarrassment beneath the surface once more.

Nyota quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t press any farther, choosing to hold her silence and nod in response. After a long pause she says quietly, “I’ll see what I can do,” and then turns to leave, heading back up to the bridge.

Another day passes and Nyota wonders quietly about the Ambassadors health. She glances at Spock who has seemingly absorbed himself in his work, unaware of her scrutiny. Nyota was good at reading Vulcan body language, they displayed emotion but it was hard to see unless you knew what you were looking for. Spock was tense and she wondered why, scooting her chair towards the far side of her station so she could speak to him quietly, “Have you spoken with your father?”

“No,” he answers just as quietly without taking his gaze off of the screen in front of him and then quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side as he regards her thoughtfully, his gaze scanning her body language for any reason as to why she would inquire that of him before adding on, “is there a reason that I should?”

“ _this one is concerned_ ,” she murmurs quietly in the Vulcan dialect, something she only ever did when she didn’t want anyone else to know what they were saying, “ _this one has been told your father is gravely ill and must return to New Vulcan as soon as he can_.”

He stiffens in only a way a Vulcan can, subtle and unnoticeable unless you knew what you were looking for, the vague hints of worry in his eyes as he glances at Nyota, “ _Who told you this?”_

_“You’re father’s assistant, T’riel,”_ Nyota says with a soft frown curving her lips.

“ _This one will speak with T’riel,”_ Spock responds quietly, staring down at the screen in front of him intensely.

“ _Spohkh,”_ she says gently and touches his arm _; “T’riel was very worried.”_

Spock nods and she can’t help the pang of love for him that clenches her heart, love despite everything because she would always love Spock, she turns away from him and returns to her work, trying not to think about the Ambassador or his nervous assistant.

When her shift was over she wanders the halls, spies Gaila with an arm full of colorful fabric and drops into step beside her, grinning at her friend as they walk, “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Gaila says, bewildered by the grin on her usually solemn friend’s face.

“What?” Nyota asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“You’re _smiling_ ,” Gaila says in awe.

Nyota shrugs, “I was just trying it out.”

“Fake smiling?” Gaila says with a sigh and shakes her head as they walk, “that’s worse than you pining away for the Vulcan.”

“I’m not _pining_ ,” Nyota scowls at her friend, “I just…miss him.”

They enter Gaila’s joint quarters, one that she shares with another ensign. The room was empty as they enter, and she watches Gaila dump the multitude of colored fabric on her bed, “I’m making new curtains,” Gaila grins at her, “That ensign I’ve been assigned with is so _boring_! I miss rooming with you Nyota!”

“Yeah I miss you too Gaila,” Nyota smiles faintly as she watches her friend measure the tiny porthole with the fabric in her hands.

“So…what’s going on with you and the Vulcan?”

“Nothing,” Nyota says with a shake of her head, staring at her hands.

“I realize that,” Gaila says with a roll of her eyes, “but I mean what has he done to make you look so sad again?”

“It’s not him…well it is…I’m just worried,” Nyota stammers quietly, “His father is sick.”

“Who? The Ambassador?” Gaila asks with a tilt of her head and Nyota blinks, unaware that Gaila even knew who Spock’s parents were, “Um…Gaila how did you know--…”

“Pshaaah,” Gaila waves her off dismissively, “I set about making it my personal mission to know everything there is to know about Vulcans when you started dating one Nyota Uhura.”

“Oh,” Nyota asks with raised eyebrows as she watches Gaila pace the room, “Don’t tell anyone about the Ambassador…Gaila I was sworn to secrecy…I was trusted to keep quiet.”

“I _won’t_ ,” Gaila says with a roll of her eyes, “so what’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know…he’s all shaky and restless…nervous…I saw him only once when I took him to his quarters…but you know…he touched me…my hand…he accidently bumped it and he was just so overwhelming,” Nyota recalls as she stares down at the floor, remembering the shock of telepathic energy that curled throughout her whole body the moment his skin came in contact with hers, “He was so… _restless_.”

“Sweaty?” Gaila chimes in, an eyebrow raised as she regards her friend.

“Yes…” Nyota frowns up at Gaila, wondering where her friend was going with this.

“Nervous…edgy…untrusting…isolating himself?”

“Yes…yes… and yes,” Nyota nods.

“What else did you feel through the link…think _hard_ Nyota…”

“Lust,” Nyota says so quietly she wasn’t sure Gaila heard her.

“Oh _wow_ ,” Gaila chokes out, covering her mouth with her eyes as wide as tea cups.

“What?” Nyota frowns up at her, “what is it?”

“It’s his _mating time_!” Gaila suppresses a giggle.

“ _What_?” Nyota says with an incredulous look on her face.

“It’s the _Ponn Farr_ ,” she whispers between her hands.

“What’s that? How come I’ve never heard about it…and how do _you_ even know about it?”

“I told you,” Gaila sniffs indignantly, “I made a point of learning everything there is to know about Vulcans when you started to date one, including their mating practices. Can you believe Vulcans only get wild and crazy once every seven years?”

“Spock and I had sex…a lot,” Nyota trails off, a confused look on her face.

“Yes but they only get married during their mating time,” Gaila tells her pointedly, “and if the Ambassador is going through his mating time…it’s pretty serious.”

“Why?” Nyota asks the walking Vulcan encyclopedia as she examines a pretty piece of shimmery purple cloth.

“He’ll die if he doesn’t mate,” Gaila says with a shrug, “Or at least that’s what I heard…Can you imagine that? Vulcans all stoic and stuck up and then every seven years they turn into ravenous primitive animals and the only thing that can save them is sex? Fuck or die…wow…I should have gotten me a Vulcan a long time ago,” Gaila smiles dreamily.

“ _He’ll die_?” Nyota says as she shoots up, a panicked look on her face. She suddenly understands why T’riel looked so worried earlier.

Gaila blinks at her and nods, watching Nyota start to pace the room, “We need to hurry the hell up then,” Nyota tells Gaila, “We need to just…GO.”

“Warp drive is being testy,” Gaila shrugs, “we can’t go any faster than warp four.”

“That’s not good enough,” Nyota frowns, “Is there a certain length of time that he has?”

Gaila wrinkles her nose in thought, “Um…like…a week…two weeks…something like that,” Gaila shrugs, “I can’t remember. I wrote it down somewhere once…just in case your Vulcan starting getting horny so I could warn you about it.”

“ _Gaila_!” Nyota huffs worriedly.

“I don’t remember hang on,” Gaila grumbles, digging through her suitcases, “I brought it with me…it’s here somewhere,” and then after a long pause, “Ah ha!” Gaila says as she holds up a crumbled piece of paper, “Eight days.”

“We left Earth three days ago,” Nyota frowns.

“Then he’s got five days left or he’s toast,” Gaila frowns back at her.

“What am I going to do?” Nyota says as she nibbles on the tips of her nails, contemplating her options.

“There isn’t anything you can do Nyota,” Gaila frowns at her friend, “and it’s very private…this Ponn Farr thing…it’s very intimate among them…they _never_ talk about it…it’s like some kind of taboo or whatever to talk about it.”

“Like the sex talk?” Nyota asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Exactly…it’s like the sex talk…except it’s with Vulcans and you know how private Vulcans are…talking about sex would be the equivalent of them running naked through the corridors of the Enterprise.”

“So…Ponn Farr huh…” Nyota muses quietly, frowning in thought.

“ _Pon’Age_ is more like it,” Gaila giggles, “How old is that guy anyways? Like…one hundred something?”

“Vulcans age slower than humans…physically he’s like in his early forties,” Nyota waves a hand dismissively. The two girls fall silent as they contemplate it before Nyota stops pacing and looks at Gaila, “Ok…well I need to go to the mess hall and eat dinner…maybe a little replicated food will make me feel better.”

“Try the peanut butter cookies,” Gaila suggests as she stuffs her things back into her suitcases, “they usually do the trick for me.”

“Ok,” Nyota smiles and leaves her quarters, everything Gaila had just told her still swirling around in her head like a violent storm.

Halfway to the mess hall she hears T’riel’s voice, higher than normal and filled with anxiety. Anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to tell there was something wrong, but her experience with Vulcan’s gave her an advantage that most did not have. She deviates from her course towards the mess hall and follows T’riel’s voice, finds him in an empty corridor standing before the door of the Ambassadorial suite, subtle hints of fear laced into his expression. She ducks down a connecting corridor, hiding just out of sight and listening in on the conversation.

“ _Sanu Sa-mekh_ ,” Spock’s voice sounds from inside the room and then he is bodily thrown from it, sent tumbling out into the corridor. Something like a loud snarl echoes down the corridor and her eyes widen in shock and surprise, resisting the urge to run towards Spock and make sure he’s alright. She can see from her hiding spot that a dark green bruise is forming on his right cheek. The Ambassador steps forward, waves of displeasure and irritation rolling off of him like fog across a still pond. Spock looks up at his father and Nyota sees the worry in his eyes, she knows that something is terribly wrong.

“ _Ot-lan,”_ T’riel says and too late does she realize he’s noticed her presence. She blinks at him and swallows thickly, the heat of embarrassment flushing her cheeks as she steps out into the corridor fully. T’riel regards her with a blank expression but she can see in his eyes how desperate he is when he says, “You must _leave_.”

She shifts her gaze between Spock and his father and then back to T’riel. At first she wants to protest but Spock’s hard look in her direction keeps her silent.  In the end it is the strange look on the Ambassador’s face that drives her off, the heated way his eyes were raking over her body from head to toe, taking in every inch of her appearance.  She is trying very hard not to panic as she turns and walks back down the corridor, tries not to react to the fact everything in her body is screaming at her to run, gets the feeling that if she runs she will not make it to the mess hall.

She would not make it out of the corridor.

Turning her back on the hot gaze that slid over her body like a pair of hot hands was the first thing her instincts told her _not_ to do but she did nonetheless. The hair on the back of her neck stood up in response, every part of her body was attentive to the fact that she was being watched like a hunter watches its prey.

_Crapcrapcrapcrap…._

She thinks nervously, trying to slow her heart rate down by taking deep breaths. It is only when she is safely inside the Mess hall that she calms down, relaxes just enough to pick up a tray and get something to eat for dinner.

Dinner turned out to make her feel better, after having a healthy dose of peanut butter cookies (and a few extra to sneak back to her quarters) she leaves the mess hall feeling a lot calmer than she did the hour before. She sees Spock in the medical bay talking with McCoy and when he catches her eye she keeps walking. She doesn’t say anything when she hears him fall into step beside her, his much longer legs easily keeping in stride with hers.

“I apologize,” he begins quietly; “My father is not himself.”

“I know,” she says quietly and then switches to Vuhlkansu, “ _I know_.”

 Spock stiffens beside her and she knows that he understands what she means, nods imperceptibly and falls silent.  He has no reason to explain his father’s actions now; she knows what is going on.  They walk together in silence until they reach the turbolift, once inside with the doors closed he visibly relaxes, a frown curving his lips as he looks down at her, “ _It was foolish of thee to be in such a place.”_

_“I would see thine father safe,”_ she snaps back irritably _._

_So we’re using the high Vulcan tongue now are we?_

Nyota thinks irritably, knows that he only uses that dialect when he’s angry with her or when he’s feeling especially Vulcan.

“ _This one would not see thee harmed T’sai,”_ he says gently _, “Mine father hath watched you in a way I feel unbecoming.”_

“I noticed,” Nyota says softly as she switches to standard, “How bad is he?”

“Very,” he mutters quietly and rubs his cheek gingerly.

“Why did he do that?” she asks after a long pause.

“He was displeased with me,” he admits quietly and then switches back to the old dialect, “ _Hath thou allowed mine father to see into your mind?”_

_“No,”_ Nyota replies with a soft frown curving her lips, _“Your father had touched me only in passing and only by accident,”_ she admits softly.

_“My father hath accused me of causing you great pain,”_ Spock frowns down at her, as if trying to reach into her mind and understand what his father was talking about _, “he had become enraged by it and sought to avenge you.”_

_“Avenge me?”_ Nyota squeaks with wide eyes, _“Spohkh I would see no harm be done to thee…I may hurt but that pain is normal. It will fade with time…”_

_“I fear that my father doth not understand why you are in pain,”_ he begins hesitantly _, “only that you are…he is in no shape to comprehend proper thoughts and emotions at this time.”_

Nyota fidgets beside him, something she usually never does and feels a little embarrassed because of it. With Spock she is careful not to display her emotions so vividly, knows that it makes him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” she whispers softly, “I didn’t have my shields up…I wasn’t expecting him to do that.”

“You should always have your shields up,” he scolds her lightly as the turbolift doors open and he steps out. She remains where she is and watches the door close, his back to her as he walks down the corridor.

That night she has bad dreams. She dreams about Vulcan’s destruction and with it the very last piece of Spock’s love for her. Vulcan’s destruction had changed him in ways he would not admit to at first. Kirk was first his friend and then finally his lover almost a year later. Kirk managed to reach him on a level she had not achieved, perhaps because the two of them shared the same tragedy and she was merely an onlooker, Kirk having lost his father to Nero and Spock losing his mother and his planet to Nero’s wrath and hate.

She supposes this is where it all began.

When she dreamt of Vulcan after its destruction she would always awake warm and safe in Spock’s arms, feeling as though while he was there no harm could come to her. She would cradle him close while he inhaled her scent, trembled under her touch as he emptied himself of his emotions and fought the sorrow threatening to swallow him whole. Tonight would be the first night she wouldn’t have his warm touch to bring her back to reality, to remind her that he was alive and safe and unharmed. That Nero had not murdered the man she loved despite the fact that he’d murdered billions, destroyed every hope and dream she had of one day seeing Vulcan for herself rather than see it in Spock’s memories. She had wanted to feel the press of Vulcan’s hot red sand under her bare feet, wanted to know whether it was as hot and as soothing as the warm earth of Africa. She wanted to compare the hot plains of her homeland to the desert of Vulcan, wanted to see a Sehlat for the first time, to hike up into the forge with Spock and find a lematya. She wanted to see what these creatures looked like rather then watch them in holo’s and pictures. Nyota was always inquisitive even as a young child, she had a deep seated need to _know_ , to grab onto every piece of knowledge she could find, wanted to know every language and meet every civilization, wanted to understand it _all_.

Her dream begins like it always does, frantic people running across the bridge, the ship jarring abruptly by the force of Nero’s assault on its haul, Spock rushing down to the surface to save the elders. She remembers her panic, the terrible crushing anxiety as she listens intently to his frequency, listens for his voice because his voice is the only life line she has left in this crisis.  When he returns to the bridge he speaks, saying what he always does but his voice doesn’t sound the same. She frowns as she tries to make out the words, tries to understand what he’s saying but his words aren’t federation standard, they aren’t a language she’s ever heard before.  He keeps talking and the panic in her keeps rising, the horror of watching Vulcan’s destruction replayed over and over in her mind like a broken record, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fervently wipes them away, trying to hide them from Spock and anyone else on the bridge.

_“Hizhuk,”_ whispers that same strange voice in her ears and she’s blinking because she’s never heard that voice in her dreams before.

“ _Hizhuk_ ,” it says again, soft and gentle.

Nyota can’t push the sorrow down quick enough to process what she hears, can’t escape the nightmare she’s caught up in as she twists and turns in her bed. Her body feels heavy and overheated, trapped beneath the thick blankets on her bed.

“ _Pehkau tusa_ ,” the deep voice says again and Nyota feels herself being pulled from the nightmare, like floating upward in a room without gravity. She blinked blearily and realizes her face is pressed into something warm and soft, strong hot arms encompassing her and holding her against a solid frame. She thinks for a moment it’s Spock kneeling on the side of her bed, gathering her up into his arms and holding her too him, his faced pressed into her neck with one hand tangled in her hair and the other circling her waist.  The hand in her hair is stroking her soothingly, the deep voice murmuring soft words in what she recognized now as the higher tongue of Vulcan. His fingers on her skin sent her waves of warmth and comfort, his attentions aimed at soothing her. She was being held half way off the bed, her shoulders against the mattress and her torso being held against the Vulcan in question, one who she thought was Spock but as she started to fully wake up she realized something.

This was not Spock.

The one who held her had too broad of a frame, was too tall and didn’t smell like Spock did. This man smelled like cologne and spice, and though the scent was not unpleasant it did not sooth her sudden panic. Her panic seemed to set him off, felt him tighten his grip on her as waves of panic rolled off of him and he gathered her in his arms, Nyota grunting loudly as he crushed her against his frame. “Hang on a minute,” Nyota mumbled sleepily, blinking into the darkness of her room as she peers up at the stranger holding her. He has lifted her completely up out of the bed, his hands holding her upper thighs so that she settled at his waist. Instinctively she wraps her legs around his waist so that he wouldn’t drop her, which pushes a sudden and very _loud_ purr of satisfaction out of the Vulcan currently carrying her. He rolls his hips and she inhales sharply, recognizing the sharp bulge pressed far too intimately between her thighs.

“Lights low,” Nyota calls out and widens her eyes when she looks up at the face of the man carrying her.

Who turned out to be the Ambassador.

Spock’s father.

“Ambassador?” she says quietly, swallowing thickly as she stares up at the blank expression on Sarek’s face. The only thing that gave her any indication that he’d even heard her was the intent black stare of his eyes as he racked them over her body, snapping them back up to meet her gaze when she speaks.

“Ambassador,” she repeats slowly as if talking to a small child because right now he’s giving her the impression that he’s either hit his head very hard or this Ponn Farr thing has just knocked the logic right out of him, “Put me down please.”

He seems to pay her no mind, a deep rumbling purr vibrating against her chest as he bumps his head against hers gently, sliding his cheek against her own. Her eye twitches momentarily as she processes the fact that the Ambassador is _purring_ , stores that for another time in which she can ask Spock if he can purr _too_ , and tries to focus on the situation at hand. Gently she tries to put her feet down but finds that he’s counter acted her move by holding her up higher onto his waist so that her feet don’t reach the ground. She scowls at him and tries to wiggle out of his arms, her toes outstretched as she narrowly scraps against the floor but cannot break free. He growls, full on _growls_ at her and she freezes, fear racing down her spine.

With an irritated chuff in her direction he roughly pulls her back up his body, settling her at his waist once more. “Ok….” Nyota says with a quirked eyebrow and feels another eye twitch coming on when he rolls his hips against hers again, the hard length of him sliding hotly between her thighs.

“ _Nope_ ,” she says with wide eyes as if suddenly deciding upon something, which was mostly the fact that Spock’s father was currently dry humping her in the middle of her quarters and she was having _none of that_. The last thing she needed was for Spock to think she was flirting with his father to get revenge on him.

How the hell had he gotten in here anyways?

Nyota leans backwards, trying to catch sight of the door to her quarters to see if it’s even still intact. She hoped it was for both their sakes. This whole Ponn Farr thing could never get out; to protect Spock’s father and her own reputation she needed to keep people from finding out about his current condition. It would be humiliating for him once he was in his right mind she was certain, and she liked Sarek, she didn’t want such a blemish on his career, for such a scandal to get out that would force him to resign his position because he was very good at his job and she’d hate to see him lose it. Thankfully the door is still closed so maybe she could talk him down after all.

Apparently the Ambassador had other ideas.

He doesn’t seem particularly fond of her leaning away from him so he pulls her back towards him roughly, slamming her up against his chest so that he can bump his face against hers, rolling his cheek against her own. He is purring again, the heat of his hands on her upper thighs burning through the thin cotton of her pajama bottoms. She yelps more out of surprise than pain when she feels his lips sliding across her jawline and down across the skin of her throat, licking and nipping as they went. In all the times she’d been with Spock he’d never been like this with her, never this primitive or base. She’d only ever heard him growl once, and that was when Chekov had made the mistake of asking her out on a date right in front of him, unaware of the fact that they’d still been dating at the time. That growl had been suppressed though, more of a faint rumble in his chest then a teeth baring growl.

They’d still been at the academy too when her relationship with Spock was still new. She was still learning the boundaries of his control, learning the possessive nature of Vulcans in general. The way the Ambassador was behaving was downright baffling, rolling his hips against hers hungrily every few moments, nipping at her throat and nuzzling against her cheek. He chuffs after several moments of this, looks irritated with her and drops his head down, nipping a little harder this time, hard enough to make her yelp in pain this time.

_What?_

She thinks as she blinks at him, trying to figure out what he wanted. He rolls his hips harder this time, hard enough that she was systematically made aware of how much _more_ of him there was then Spock, and of that she was fairly certain she could state in inches.

_So were full Vulcans that different than half Vulcans?_

_Why was she even thinking about this right now?_

“Ambassador,” she tries again patiently, her mind calculating the amount of force it would take to pry herself from his grip and finds that she is lacking in that strength. Vulcans were three times as strong and as fast. Sarek was full Vulcan and she knew without a doubt there was no way she was getting away from him without a little help. He is nipping at her throat more insistently now, the roll of his hips a little harder and more frequent. He turns and slowly lowers her to the bed and instantly she knows this is a bad thing, knows that she does _not_ want to be trapped under a Vulcan during Ponn Farr. There was no way she’d get him off of her otherwise, but finds that she hasn’t got much of a choice in the matter because he’s on top of her in seconds, trapped beneath his arms and pinned by his weight. He does nothing more than what he did prior, though he raises her legs to drape them over his hips, presses himself more insistently against her and she’s trying very hard not to blush.

It was almost as if he were waiting for something.

Nyota tilts her head to the side to regard him, watches his facial expressions as they shift from irritated, pleased and then desperate. He was turning very green she noticed, felt the way his body temperature was sky rocketing. Curiously she rolls her hips against his because let’s face it she’s already felt the brunt of _that_ , and she might as well experiment to try and understand this Ponn Farr thing better. His reaction is like a hair-trigger response, his hips rolling back against hers and a deep satisfied purr rumbling in his chest. His hands are plucking at her clothes, trying to move them so his lips and teeth could find bare skin. She blinks and nods to herself, understands why he’s frustrated. Though under the severe effect of Ponn Farr he was still waiting for her agreement, perhaps because they weren’t bonded and this was the way unbonded Vulcan’s naturally selected a mate under the effects of Ponn Farr or in primitive times.

She was _not_ going to be this man’s mate.

Not happening.

Nope.

This man was Spock’s father, and even though he was handsome in a mature sort of way, and even though the roll of his hips _might_ feel good sometimes, she wasn’t about to just get naked with Sarek. She blames it on her hormones or the fact that she hasn’t gotten laid in a while when he rolls his hips and earns a gasp from her parted lips in response, scolding herself mentally for letting _that_ happen. He seems almost giddy in response, dropping his head down between her neck and shoulder to nip at the skin there, pressing himself up against her more tightly.

“Ok,” Nyota breaths as she tries to calm herself down, already starting to sweat under the intense heat of Sarek’s skin as it radiates off of him.

How did this even _happen_?

“Please,” she murmurs as she pushes up against his chest, trying to slide out from under him. He lets out a snarl of irritation and grabs her hips roughly, sliding her back down underneath him.  Wincing at the over use of force against her frame, she was sure she’d have bruises there later on. She lets out a sigh and resorts to another method, one which she lays her palms gently on either side of his face, her fingers curling just behind his ears like she’s done with Spock many times. She forces him to meet her gaze as she thinks about what she wants, pushes the thought through her fingers so that he’ll hear it.

_/Too hot….uncomfortable….pain…./_

He suddenly backs off, panic is written across his face as he searches her body for injuries. She’s scrambles to get a hold of his hands, sending him reassurance through his fingers that she wasn’t seriously hurt. Gentle she pushes back, still holding his hands to reassure him of her presence, urging him off of her so that she could stand.  Once she was on her feet she releases one hand and guides him with the other, stopping in front of her door to ensure that it wasn’t damaged. She notices the override code was blinking and makes a sour face in his direction.

_He’d hacked the access panel._

Nyota thinks irritably, blinks when Sarek yanks her backwards and into his arms, realizing too late that he probably heard what she was thinking and felt his fear and panic through their entwined fingers, realizes that he’s afraid she’ll run from him.

_/Minemineminemine…/_

She hears his mental chanting, pulling her up against the heat of his body, his arms curling around her waist. “Ok,” she takes a deep breath, searches for her communicator in her room and spots it on her dresser. She takes a step towards it, pulls away from his grasp as gently as she can and he follows, determined not to release her. It proves to be difficult to walk when he’s determined to keep her as close as possible.  She finally manages to grab her communicator off of the dresser just as Sarek grows tired of following her around the room and scoops her up into his arms, settling her against his waist once more. She huffed indignantly and he chuffs in response, nipping at her jawline. She blinks at him, wondering what would happen if she tried making another noise in response, like growling…or purring…could she even purr?

Maybe she’s done enough experimenting for one day.

Flipping the communicator open she dials in the code for the Ambassadorial suite. Moments later T’riel’s face appears and she quirks an eyebrow, keeping her face as pleasant as possible even though Sarek is now nipping at her shoulder a little more sharply, his hot hands smoothing over her backside and squeezing gently.

“Have you lost something… _someone_ perhaps?” she asks in a half squeak when Sarek rolls his hips against her again.

“S’tai,” he begins quietly, “Forgive me…I only turned away for a moment…he must have escaped.”

“Yes,” Nyota nods, “ _He did_.”

“Do you know where—…?” T’riel trails off as she turns the communicator towards Sarek so that he can see where his Ambassador is.

“Oh my,” T’riel clears his throat quietly, “I’m on my way.”

Not even five minutes later _(shit did he run here or what?)_ she thinks idly as she gives T’riel approval to enter. The moment he’s inside it’s like a thick black cloud has descended upon the room and Sarek is growling deeply against her chest, a snarl breaking free from his lips as he bares his teeth at T’riel. Nyota swallows thickly and waves T’riel away, motions for him to back off and does the only thing she can think of to calm Sarek down.  Gently she laces her arms around his shoulders and nuzzles his neck, nipping at his throat.  He seems to relax slightly, the vaguest impression of calm though his grip on her frame hasn’t slackened in the least. From her place against Sarek’s chest she mumbles into his neck, “ _Go get help_ ,” she tells T’riel quietly, not wanting to enrage Sarek again by looking at T’riel.

T’riel keeps his head down low and does not make eye contact with Sarek, bows himself out quietly from the room and then hurries down the hall towards the medical center.  When he’s gone the tension in Sarek’s shoulders dissipates, the opposing male in the room no longer a threat.

“Do you know you look like a pissed off cat whenever you get angry?” Nyota muses allowed and laughs at the indignant look on his face. Even when he’s at his most primitive he understands a teasing comment. He chuffs and rattles her in his arms, pushes her up higher so that her breasts are level with his face. “Oh _no_ ,” Nyota says and covers his mouth with her hands when he tries to lean forward and run his tongue over the material covering her chest. She smiles down at him faintly and shakes her head, sighing in exasperation at his behavior.

She just had to keep him busy until they got to New Vulcan.

Once they were there they could bring a Vulcan female on board and she could take over the job of distracting him. He grips her tighter and she thinks he knows what she’s thinking, makes a statement of his displeasure by holding her up against him more firmly. Its ten minutes later before McCoy enters the room followed by T’riel and she feels him stiffen up against her again, no amount of nipping or nuzzling was going to distract him from the other males in the room now.

“Distract him,” McCoy hisses at Nyota who shoots him a glare over Sarek’s shoulder.

“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?” she hisses back angrily, digging her nails into Sarek’s shoulders when he shakes her roughly in his arms, clamping down on her frame so tightly she squeaks in alarm. He is growling, a deep rumbling that starts deep in his chest and vibrates against her own, Nyota frantically trying to distract him by nipping at his throat and rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. One arm is holding her against his waist while the other detangles itself from her frame, moving to slide down her back possessively, his dark eyes daring the other two men in the room to try and take her from him.

“Don’t provoke him!” Nyota hisses from Sarek’s shoulder as T’riel inches around the room, Sarek watching him intently. The other Vulcan male was the greatest calculated threat to his intended mate, he would have a greater chance of stealing her away from him then the human would. Deftly he clings to his intended and watches T’riel with murderous intent, growling viciously.

Nyota tries not to look at McCoy, only because if she sees what he’s doing Sarek will hear her thoughts and attack him. Whatever their plan was it had better be a good one because she was having trouble breathing with Sarek holding onto her so tightly.

Then as quickly as it had begun it ended, the feel of Sarek’s thoughts slowing down through his hands. She quickly drops her feet to the ground as he stumbles, his arms dropping to his sides as McCoy and Nyota catch him together, slowly lowering him to the ground.

“Gotta love those sedative hypo’s,” McCoy grins down at her.

“What took you so long?” Nyota scowls up at him, smacking him lightly on the arm, “The man was trying to _mate_ with me!”

T’riel clears his throat loudly and she winces at her own words, turning to glance at T’riel, “My apologies,” she begins politely, “I didn’t mean to be so rude…I am merely a bit shaken by the latest events of the evening. It was quite unexpected.”

“Apologies are not necessary,” T’riel says quietly, “The fault is mine, I allowed the Ambassador to escape his quarters.”

“How did he end up here?” Nyota says with a confused look on her face, “ _why_ did he end up here?”

“The Ambassador,” T’riel begins thoughtfully, his stoic face giving nothing away as he glances down at his S’haile, “displayed rather odd behavior after his initial contact with you when he first came aboard. Normally this would not have any effect but perhaps there was already an underlying sense of…admiration present.”

_Initial contact?_

_Only Vulcans could make that sound so…dirty…_

“Told you those damn uniforms are too short,” McCoy grumbles from somewhere behind her as he hauls the Ambassador up by one arm and looks at T’riel expectantly, “if you want to get this man to his suite before he wakes up and without anybody noticing us, you need to help me.”

 

One turbo lift, a wheelchair, one talented and quick witted story about being requested to the Ambassadorial suite later and (thankfully) without being seen due to the very late hour to which they were sneaking around on the ship, they arrived in Sarek’s quarters.

“Crap he’s waking up,” McCoy mumbles as they haul Sarek up onto his bed.

“Somebody remind me why we didn’t use a gurney?” Nyota says, panting heavily.

“To obvious, the last thing we need is somebody seeing him on a gurney and reporting it to the bridge,” McCoy says as he scans Sarek with his tricorder, “His adrenaline levels are spiking…he’s not gonna last much longer unless we get him to New Vulcan _now_.”

“The wheelchair was pretty obvious,” Nyota says drily after a short pause.

“The wheelchair was for _me_ ,” McCoy says smarmily with a half smirk on his lips, “My knees were starting to give out under the weight of lover boy over here,” he says motioning towards Sarek, “You’d never expect a Vulcan to weigh so _much_.”

“Denser muscles,” Nyota says casually as she watches Sarek sleep, “The atmosphere of their home planet gave them denser muscle retention…they don’t look heavy but believe me they are.”

“I’ll remember that the next time I have to smuggle a Vulcan diplomat through the halls of the federation’s flagship,” McCoy says with a chuckle as he injects Sarek with another sedative. McCoy frowns as he checks his tricorder, sighing heavily, “His body is burning through the serum to quickly…because of the adrenaline spike his metabolism has picked up speed to balance out the rest of his body…the sedatives won’t last very long.”

“Ok,” Nyota sighs as she rubs her face, “let’s set up a force field between the bedroom and the living room so even if he wakes up…he can’t get out…and then I’ll stay here with T’riel to keep him calm…he seems a little more relaxed when I’m here.”

“Sounds good,” McCoy nods, “You know I’m going to have to tell Jim.”

“Not the part about Spock’s father trying to mate with me though right?” Nyota says with a quirked eyebrow, “somehow I don’t think Spock will take that very well.”

“Please,” T’riel cuts in quickly, “refrain from mentioning the ambassador’s indiscretions in your report to the Captain Doctor.”

“What he said,” Nyota agrees.

“As you wish,” McCoy says with a nod and leaves the room.

It takes about twenty minutes to retrieve and set up the force field, Nyota using Kirk’s administrative pull to get one of the force field devices out of the detainment facility without question. Once they were certain Sarek was asleep and the force field in place, Nyota proceeded to do one of her favorite pass times.

She reads.

Nyota likes books, likes to learn new things. The book is fascinating, it discusses the Vulcan history pre-Surak times, a book that T’riel made sure to give her a disapproving glare for but otherwise remained silent.  On the coffee table at her feet rested a phaser set to stun, something that T’riel was very hesitant about but Nyota reassured him she wouldn’t injure Sarek, only use it if Sarek were to somehow get out and get violent.

Hours passed, T’riel retired to an adjoining room to meditate while Nyota kept reading, occasionally glancing towards the bedroom where Sarek had already begun to stir, wide dark eyes blinking into the darkness of the bedroom towards the door where the only light was shining in. Nyota turned a page and he was on his feet, staggering at first, his hands splayed against the far wall for balance as he made his way towards the bedroom door.  He sees her and almost looks elated, steps forward and his nose connects with the force field. She winces, watches him stagger back and lets out a long sigh.

“Sarek,” she begins gently, “You can’t come out of there…the force field is for your protection as well as ours.”

_Screw the formalities_ she thinks to herself with a little half-smile, _the man was dry humping her earlier_. He looks like a kicked puppy when he discovers he cannot reach her, chuffs loudly and stares at her. She rolls her eyes and continues reading, feels the burn of his gaze searing across her skin, the beginnings of annoyance itching down her spine.  She could just shut the door in his face but that would be cruel, that would also leave him in the pitch black darkness of his room.  He chuffs again and she irritably chuffs right back at him, shooting a frown in his direction. He lets out a low whine, like an irritated cat that’s just been doused with water. All these little noises he makes will certainly make good conversation starters with Spock.  He’d probably deny it regardless, make up some kind of excuse as to why his father was imitating a wild cat so well.

She is almost asleep when she hears him, snarling lowly and she opens her eyes, blinking into the dimly lit room. T’riel is hovering by the door to his adjoining room and watches Sarek watching him.

“He is displeased with my presence,” T’riel explains before Nyota can ask.

“Just stay in there then…don’t let him see you unless I call for you,” Nyota suggests easily.

“Your logic is sound,” T’riel nods, “it would be best not to distress my S’haile any further.”

Nyota watches T’riel leave, her gaze turning to Sarek who’s still standing before the force field, his black gaze on T’riel. When the other Vulcan is gone he looks at her and she’s fairly certain he’s giving her the Vulcan version of puppy eyes.

Kitty eyes?

He’s more cat-like in all honesty, she thinks as she watches him watch her. His ears and eyebrows remind her of a cat, as does his skeletal frame. Vulcans were descended from cat-apes, thus the reason for this appearance and their secret vocal abilities.  He was really very handsome too, his height and frame were appealing, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was Spock’s father she might have even said that his _attentions_ earlier had made her just the slightest bit turned on.

_Almost_.

Maybe just a little…

“I’m not letting you out--…” Nyota says, the ending of her sentence pushed out of her as the ship gives a nasty lurch and throws her into the coffee table. She rolls over the top of the wooden table and into the carpet, yelping as her elbow bangs against the leg of the table as she goes. The lights flicker before backup generators come on, and Nyota moans a little, rubbing her sore elbow from her place crumbled on the floor against a bookshelf.

“T’sai,” T’riel whispers quietly, “don’t move.”

Nyota freezes, hears the shuffling of feet across the carpet and now it’s her turn to return to primitive instincts. Everything in her tells her to run, raising herself up slowly from the carpet, graceful and smooth thanks to years of ballet and Pilates. She sees the force field device has been shifted, knocked across the room from the force of whatever has hit the ship and that Sarek was edging towards her slowly. When she moved he did too, mirroring her movements like a hunter watches its prey, ready to pounce on her if she tries to run.

“ _Easy_ ,” Nyota says gently as she stays on all fours and crab walks backwards away from him, afraid that if she were to stand up he’d overreact and tackle her. When she moves back he moves forward, and she hears T’riel shuffling farther back into the adjoining room, knows that if Sarek sees him he’ll attack. She glances around the room, spots the phaser lying discarded by the bathroom door. A plan formulates in her mind as she glances towards T’riel again.

“T’sai, I must get to the bridge…I must find out what’s happening,” T’riel says quietly and Nyota nods, creeping backwards on all fours towards the bathroom, “Ok…I’m gonna lead him away from you…run when he’s got his back to you.”

Nyota keeps her gaze on Sarek, watching him watch her as she reaches the bathroom door and slowly slides her foot back, hooking the phaser with her toe and pulling it towards her. Out of the corner of one eye she sees T’riel dart for the door, unlocks it and disappears through it before Sarek can even register he’s there. The door clicks locked again from the outside and Nyota returns her attention to the currently half-mad Vulcan before her. Part of her really hates the idea of stunning the Ambassador, but part of her also doesn’t want to be dry humped by an aroused Vulcan again.

_Ok…maybe she liked it a little…._

_Just a little father_ ….Nyota thinks and then mentally winces at her mishap… _farther_ ….she corrects herself as she eases the phaser into her hand. Finally she gathers her nerve and stands, aiming the phaser at Sarek, “Look…I don’t know if you can even understand me right now…but just for the sake of propriety I’m going to ask you only once to step back, and then I’m gonna fire.”

Sarek blinks at her, tilts his head to one side and analyzes the situation.  His intended was aiming some sort of glow stick at him…he couldn’t recall what it was….he knew that it was dangerous though. It was dangerous and it could hurt her if she wasn’t careful. Clearly the only action he could take was to remove the threat from her hands and dispose of it safely.

Nyota yelps when he shoots forward, lightning fast reflexes easily maneuvering him out of the way of the blast zone as his hands clamp down on the device in her hands. “NO!” she yells in her fear and panic, trying to wrestle it free from his grip.

“Stop that damnit!” she snaps and scowls when he rips it from her hands, tossing it into the adjoining room. He is vaguely aware of the burning sensation in his hands, a pain that he hardly notices over the adrenaline rushing through his system. When he turns back to his intended she looks horrified and he panics, wondering what it was that could be upsetting her. His intended was frightened so the logical thing to do was comfort her.

So he picks her up.

Nyota howls with indignation as he settles her against his waist once more, nuzzling against her face as she assaults his shoulders with her balled up fists. She’s shaking her head fervently, scrambling to get out of his embrace as she wiggles her way down the front of his body, pressing herself up deliciously against him. He hums in approval, rolls his hips as she moves and she freezes, scowls up at him and then pushes his hands away and he lets her, watches as she puts her feet back on the ground and glares up at him.

“You lunatic!” she snaps as she grabs his hands, worry etched across her features as she takes in the burns on his hands, “You grabbed the damn barrel of the phaser!”

He watches her touch his hands in such an erotic way, sliding her fingers across his palms. A fresh shot of arousal heats his body as she does this, blinking down at her with eyes that were almost black with desire. He is humming with need as she touches him and freezes mid-examination when she realizes what she’s doing.

“Great,” she mumbles irritably and rolls her eyes, “Good job Nyota…you’re practically giving him a hand job….” She smirks at her pun and takes a deep breath, trying not to think about sex right now. She’s touching him and she’s thinking about sexual innuendos, this would be a bad combination if there ever was one.

_Heh….hand job…_

_Stop it Nyota!_

_Bad Nyota!_

Sarek steps closer, his body so close to hers she can feel the heat radiating off of him. He’s purring as he raises one hand to slide it against her own, pushing his need towards her. Nyota swallows, tries to blink through the wave of lust washing over her. She turns her chin up towards him and watches his pupils dilate further until they practically disappear into his irises. The smirk drops from her lips when she realizes where he’s going with this and she immediately steps back, dropping his hands and holding her own out in front of her, “Now look here…Ambassador you _really_ don’t want to do this.”

He takes a step towards her, wide dark eyes watching her with hunger and need.

“I mean really….I’m your son’s ex-girlfriend…I mean…this would be really awkward…”

Another step….

“It would be a really funny story I suppose….but not something Spock would ever want to know about…”

Step…

“Please,” she says desperately, “Come on…fight it…you know who I am…you see me…it’s Ms. Uhura…ok we haven’t actually met properly…Spock never told you about us…”

Step…

She watches him and slowly begins to contemplate the alternatives. She could lock herself in the bedroom…she could try and make a run for the door but she _seriously_ doubted she’d make it with his full attention on her, especially because she’d have to run past him to get to the door.

“Ok look,” she snaps, tapping her foot in irritation, “this has just gotta stop _now_.”

He’s standing in front of her now, crossing the space between them in a single stride.  Nyota turns her chin up towards him and frowns, watches as his thumb traces the shape of her lips. He seems distressed by her displeasure, silently wonders what he’s thinking. She opens her mouth to speak but finds his lips are pressed against hers and she’s making outraged noises into his mouth as his hands curl around her wrists and pulls her against his body. She snaps her mouth closed and so he nips at her bottom lip, sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips until she squeals from a particularly hard bite on her bottom lip. His tongue thrusts into her mouth and slides against hers, plundering her soft mouth with hot burning need. She is breathless and dazed when he releases her, a combination from the lack of oxygen and the heat of his mouth leaving her slightly disoriented. “What…the…hell…” she breathed out heavily, blinking as she drops her forehead against his chest. She hadn’t meant to kiss him back, but surprisingly enough he was a very good kisser.

Oh now she felt _guilty…._

He probably learned to kiss from Amanda, the human woman he’d been married too for so long. Amanda who’d died on Vulcan when it was destroyed; she was making out with her husband, the man who was Spock’s father….

“We can’t do this,” she says and pushes her hands against his chest, trying to push him away from her and out of his embrace. His arms are like hot iron bands though, unyielding in her attempts to push him away. He growls in warning, scowling down at her as he drops his head to plunder her mouth once more. “ _No_ ,” her cries are muffled into his mouth as he slides his tongue against hers, his hands plucking at her pajamas. When he pulls away she is panting and he looks absolutely _languid_ , his mercurial gaze half-lidded.

“ _Uhura_ ,” says a soft voice from somewhere off to her left.

Nyota blinks and casts a sidelong glance towards the door to the ambassadorial quarters. Kirk is peering in at her, watching Sarek whose gaze has shifted towards him.  “Kirk,” Nyota breaths quietly, “what the hell is going on out there?”

“It’s not good…can you get away from him?”

“I’ll try,” Nyota says with a nod and glances towards the bedroom. She bites her lip and gives him a teasing look, stares up at him through her dark lashes. With one hand she waves Kirk out of the room, catching Sarek’s chin with the other as she stands up on her tip toes to slide her tongue along his jawline.

She was never going to live this down.

She presses herself up against him, slides her hands up over his chest as he drops his head to nuzzle his cheek against hers. Sarek is watching her curiously, his often baffling intended was behaving erratically again. First she spurns his advances and now she hums and purrs against him. Regardless of her behavior he could see from the way the other males failed to garner her attention that she clearly chooses him as her mate. Hauling her up into his arms was easy, she was light and her much smaller frame fit perfectly against his. Her legs curled around his waist as he dropped his head to plunder her mouth once more, the sweet taste of her on his lips and tongue. He decides he doesn’t want to go any farther, wants to touch her body as he tastes her mouth and drops to his knees, plucking at her clothes, the sound of tearing fabric vaguely reaching his ears. He reaches for her bottoms and frowns when his fingers grasp air, raising his head to watch her scrambling towards the bedroom. He snarls as he panics, terrified she’ll leave him and races after her, his fingers grabbing at her clothes and arms. She dives over the bed and back around the side, ducking under his outstretched arms and he tries to catch her.

He _roars_.

She cannot leave him, he won’t allow it! Terror is flooding his body, driving him to be more reckless. Other men were out there, other males who would take her from him. He couldn’t allow them to touch her; he would kill them all before they touched her!

The loud crashing sound of overturned tables spurs Nyota to run faster, the deep roar he emits sends shivers of fear racing up her spine. She’s already out the door of his quarters when he reaches her, lunges for her just as the doors close in his face. Immediately she locks them and spins around to face Kirk who’s staring at her with wide eyes.

“Um…” he says, pointing to her chest.

She looks down and groans, realizes that her shirts gone and she’s standing there in her bra. She’s panting heavily and Kirk is struggling to suppress the smirk curving his lips, “ _So_ …he’s pretty spry for an old guy.”

“He’s not _that_ old,” Nyota scowls at Kirk, “He’s like…one hundred something…I don’t know…maybe less…either way that’s like just barely reaching adulthood for a Vulcan.”

“ _Right_ ,” Kirk says with raised eyebrows.

They both jump when the door behind them bangs loudly, the sound of snarling muffled behind the metal doors. Nyota steps away from the doors and looks at Kirk, “What’s going on?”

“We lost the warp drive…were working only on forward thrusters right now,” Kirk tells her with a heavy sigh.

“Great,” Nyota shakes her head and looks skyward, “I _told_ Scottie they shouldn’t have let us leave space dock without fixing the warp drive properly.”

“He agrees I already talked to him,” Kirk points out, “He didn’t want to leave…they demanded it…said it was of great importance we get the Ambassador to New Vulcan as quickly as we could.”

“I guess Starfleet feels that if the warp drive is operational it’s good to go despite the fact we can’t get above warp four,” Nyota mutters darkly.

“Well clearly they were willing to take the risk…the Ambassador was apparently quite persistent,” Kirk says with a shrug.

“For obvious reasons,” Nyota says, motioning to the doors behind her.

“Yes,” Kirk nods, “about that…we’re not going to make it to New Vulcan in time.”

“What?” Nyota frowns, “How far away are we?”

“Too far…and not close enough to use a shuttle,” Kirk adds when Nyota opens her mouth to suggest it.

“And besides,” Kirk continues without preamble, “I wouldn’t want to be trapped in a shuttle with… _him_ ,” he says, wincing as the doors receive another heavy blow.

“Jim…he’ll _die_ if we don’t get to New Vulcan soon,” Nyota says quietly, a soft frown curving her lips.

“I know,” Kirk says quietly as he frowns at the door behind her, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Send for help…” Nyota suggests, “Call for another fleet ship--…” she continues but stops at the way Kirk shakes his head.

“I tried that…were too far out,” Kirk rubs his face tiredly, worry etched in his features, “I’m running out of ideas here.”

“How fast can Scottie get the warp drive back up and running?” Nyota asks as she crosses her arms, no longer self-conscious in her bra because he’s seen it before and at this point considering what’s happened to her so far standing in her bra before James Kirk was the least of her problems.

_Hope Spock doesn’t think I’m flirting with him now…_

“I tried that too,” Kirk grumbles, “Scottie says the warp cores a mess…we should have never left the space dock…I told them… _I told them_!” Kirk grits his teeth in frustration.

Nyota sighs and closes her eyes, wincing at a particularly loud bang from the door behind her, “I think he’s starting to throw himself at the door now.”

“Crap,” Jim frowns, “We’ve gotta sedate him or something.”

“Can’t,” Nyota groans and runs her hands through her mussed up hair, “His metabolism is moving too fast…sedatives don’t have any effect on him anymore.”

They stand there in silence for a few moments before Nyota finally makes up her mind, knows that she’s doing this because she’s not someone to just stand there and watch Sarek suffer and die, that she can’t in good conscious allow this to happen. She knows that she is doing this because she loves Spock, she does not want to see him lose his father as well. She knows that she doesn’t want Sarek to die, knows that he could do so much more good for the federation, for the universe as a whole.

Sarek was a good man and did not deserve to die like this.

“I’ve got an idea,” Nyota says quietly, breaking the long silence between them as she turns towards the door, “Tell T’riel to keep out…tell everybody just to stay out of the room and lock this door, don’t open it for the next four days at least unless you’re sneaking me in some food and water.”

“Wait a minute,” Kirk says as he shakes his head, “I think I know where you’re going with this…T’riel told me how this whole issue has to be resolved and you don’t _have_ to do this.”

“I won’t let him die Jim,” Nyota tells him softly, “Sarek is a good man and if I can save him I will.”

“You do realize this is how they get _married_ don’t you?” Kirk presses pointedly, “He’ll try and bond with you.”

“Then I’ll just have to be careful and not let him touch my face, now won’t I?” Nyota says with a half-smile.

The smile fades and she falls silent then and takes a deep breath, suddenly very nervous and embarrassed, Kirk knows exactly what she is about to go do right now, knows that she’s going to do this with Spock’s _father_.

_Spock…._

“Don’t tell Spock…” she barely whispers as an afterthought as she turns back to look at Kirk.

“He knows what’s going on already,” Kirk tells her quietly, “I told him to come down here and help me deal with his father but he just sort of turned bright green and reasoned that his presence was needed on the bridge as I would be down here.”

Nyota nods for a moment, “I can’t imagine he’d want to be down here when his father’s inside his quarters walking around with a raging hard-on…”

“Oh geeze Uhura _come on_!” Kirk grimaces as he covers his face, “I don’t need that mental image thank you!”

“Don’t tell him what I’m doing just yet though,” Nyota responds after a short pause, “I know he’s not going to like it…I know this is going to totally weird him out…”

“Weird _him_ out?” Kirk says with raised eyebrows as he looks at her.

“Ok this is probably a little weird for you too I imagine,” Nyota says as she rolls her eyes.

“Sarek is three times as strong as a human male…he could seriously hurt you Uhura,” Kirk points out, “Just be careful.”

She thinks back to the past events of the days and smiles a little to herself and shakes her head, “I don’t think he’s going to hurt me.”

She turns away from him and types in the access code to the room, watches the metal doors slide open and steps inside without waiting for a response from Kirk. When the door shuts behind her she sees Sarek across the room, watches as he spins around to look at her with a wild expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic, fear, and rage as he rushes towards her, moves quicker than she can react and swings her up into his arms, crushing her against his larger frame.

She welcomes him as she laces her arms around his neck and lets him slide his lips against hers.  Opening her mouth she brushes her tongue against his, sighing softly in contentment when he responds. She raises her legs up and wraps them around his waist, melting into his frame. He kisses her with ardor, long hot languid kisses that leave her breathless. 

He is positively elated that she has returned and that she is unharmed. Terror had seized him the moment she was out of his sight, the moment he could not reach her. He had resorted to using his body weight against the door, trying to break through and save his mate from the males who would take her from him. It was clear from the sound of her irritated groaning on the other side of the door that she was being assailed by other males, the ones that would dare to touch what was _his_.  He nuzzles her face, slides his tongue along her throat and tastes her skin, lets the sweet flavor roll over his tongue. His bewildering intended is no longer behaving erratically, has endeavored to respond to his attentions in a most pleasing way.

She is muttering into his neck, words he doesn’t understand but she seems content in his arms. She raises her head up and points towards the bedroom, leans her body weight in that direction and nuzzles against his face. He tilts his head to one side to regard her, blinking at her with wide dark eyes filled with heat.

“Over there,” she says slowly, points towards the bedroom, “Go over there…Sarek…take me to the bedroom please.” She frowns when he just stands there, and sighs in frustration. She leans her body weight to the right again much like she was driving a hover bike and not being held in the arms of an aroused Vulcan going through Ponn Farr. After a moment he seems to understand and starts walking in that direction, she rewards him by nipping at his throat, sliding her tongue along his clavicle. He stumbles for a moment and she thinks that perhaps she’s given him a little _too_ much as a reward, feels him starting to drop towards the floor again.

“ _No_ ,” she presses and grumbles when he drops to his knees, intent on pushing her down onto the plush carpet beneath them. She was going to need something softer than carpet for this, and she wasn’t about to get rug burns on her ass because he couldn’t understand what she wanted. She sighs in defeat as he lays her back against the carpet and dips down, a hand on either side of her head as he slides his tongue along her cheek. She spreads her legs, cradles him between her thighs and she tugs at the voluptuous robes he wears, delights in the feel of the smooth fabric of his clothing. She wasn’t quite ready to see this man without his robes but she was curious, she wondered if he was as well built as he felt through his clothing. He seemed more than willing however to take them off, proceeds to tear off his outer robes with an audible ripping sound, torn fabric being flung across the room in his excitement. It was as if a dam had been released, that she’d given him permission to remove his clothes and now that she has he starts to strip, stumbling to his feet to try and get the rest of his robes off. Nyota watches him for a moment; his gaze locked on hers as he frantically (excitedly) takes off the many layers of his robes.

She takes this moment to stand as well, watching the wide expanse of his chest come into view as he tears off his shirt. He’s not heavily muscled but there is enough to be pleasing, his chest was lightly dusted with dark hair with a single trail of dark hair beginning just under his belly button and disappearing into the high waist of his pants.  He steps forward and she realizes the tension in his shoulders, panic etched across his face. He reaches out for her and she smiles at him, teasingly dances out of his reach, reaches back for the latch to her bra and undoes it.

_If I’m gonna do this…I’m gonna do this properly._

_Good thing I got that birth control shot…._

Nyota Uhura did not do things half-ass. If she was going to do this with Sarek she was going to enjoy it. He growls, a stern look on his face as she pulls her bra off and dangles it on one finger, tilting her head to one side as he freezes mid-step and regards her cautiously. His gaze drifts to her breasts and then back up to her face before returning to her breasts once more.

He undresses faster.

She pushes her pajama bottoms down over her hips and carefully steps out of them, leaving her in her standard issued white underwear. She tosses her pajama bottoms to the side of the room and watches Sarek struggle with his pants, snarling in frustration. She’s afraid he’ll rip them and she doesn’t want that, she worries that he won’t have another set to wear because she didn’t see a suitcase anywhere. She steps forward, stands close enough to feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him in waves and reaches out to undo the clasp of his pants. She takes a deep breath and pushes them down over his hips, her fingers hooking in the waist band of his underpants as she pulls them down. Leaning in she presses open mouth kisses against his chest, swirling her tongue around his nipples, nipping at the green tinged skin. He is hot and hard against her belly, her fingers sliding over his length as she presses kisses down his chest, slowly dropping to her knees.

_Get ready buddy because I’m about to rock your world…_

He stands there and watches her, most likely dumbstruck judging by the look of fascination and awe on his face. She displays none of the nervousness she feels when she’s on her knees before him, his gaze burning across her face as she tentatively leans forward to slide her tongue over the tip of his _lok_ , watches his eyes turn impossibly blacker with desire.

He doesn’t even look remotely human anymore; the point of his ears and the sweep of his brow make him look so _alien_ , watching her with eyes that were far too dark and pupils that were far too wide to be human. His hands are in her hair in seconds, gripping so tightly she feels tears stinging in her eyes and is certain he’ll probably pull a few strands out. She gazes up at him through her lashes, watches his mouth drop open in awe when she swirls her tongue over the head of his _lok_ , then down the base and back up again. He gasps aloud when she sucks on the tip, his hips thrusting forward sharply, his lok bumping the back of her throat. She steadies herself after his sudden reaction, sucks gently and swirls her tongue in patterns across the delicate skin. She keeps her eyes on his face, watches his eyes drift closed and his hips find a slow gentle rhythm.

_Idly she wondered if Vulcan’s ever did this…_

_Probably not…_

_Wait a minute what if he did this with…_

_Stop thinking Uhura._

He grunts after what seems like an impossibly long time, shuddering against her attentions and she knows he’s getting close. Breathing through her nose had become a trial and his displeasure was eminent when she had to stop and breathe and rest her aching jaw every now and then. Clearly though he didn’t mind because he allowed her the time to do so, but only enough for her to catch her breath before he was chuffing at her in need. When he finds his release she swallows as quickly as she can, knows that it will burn down her throat because this really isn’t the first time she’s done this for a Vulcan. Everything about this species was hot, right down to physical appearances.

_Even their minds…their brilliant wonderful minds…she loved their intellect…_

_You’re doing it again Uhura._

He looks extraordinarily pleased as he watches her, pushing with his hips as he fills her mouth with his _khrasaya_. She is trying not to tremble as he watches her, his _khrasaya_ dribbling down her chin and across his _lok_. His gaze was so intent upon her she feels the heat of a blush flushing her cheeks, slowly runs her tongue over the tip of him, letting her hand slide over his rapidly hardening girth.

_That was fast…wow this might be harder than it looks…_

_Heh…harder than it looks…_

_Focus Uhura….focus._

He pulls her up by her hair and she goes with it, tries not to grimace at the tight grip he has on her hair. She stumbles as he curls an arm around her waist and yanks her up against his hard frame, plunders the soft hot cavern of her mouth with his tongue. She doesn’t fight him and simply goes with it, and he seems pleased by the fact that she tastes like him. He crowds her with his body, pushes her back towards the bed and she is pleased by this fact, she really didn’t want to do this on the carpet. The back of her legs bump into the bed and she tumbles backwards, bracing herself up on her elbows as he bends down, hovering over her as his tongue snakes out to curl around the tip of one of her nipples.  She swallows thickly, watches him with wide eyes as he keeps his intent gaze upon her face. She takes a deep breath, unable to process a reaction with the intense sensation of heat pooling between her thighs or the way his attentions sent jolts of arousal through her body.

Seriously…she did not expect him to be so….so…. _experienced_.

He chuffs and she realizes he just _might_ have heard that thought, nipping at her breast before turning his attention to the other, the dusky hardened peak begging for attention.  She digs her nails into the sheets beneath her, fights the urge to touch him because he was already straining not to tackle her as it was, knows that if she were to touch him right now he might just lose control completely. She whimpers a little when he bites down on her nipple lightly, arches her back towards him and closes her eyes, thrills in the feel of his hands sliding down her narrow frame towards her hips. She finds that she is having trouble breathing, gasping at the sensations he creates with his hot mouth sliding down between her breasts, licking and nipping at her skin as he works his way down towards her hips. His fingers hook into her underwear and she suddenly thinks that perhaps he’s teasing her, wonders if he’s coherent enough for that. Whatever this Ponn Farr thing did to Vulcans, it certainly made them lose control of their emotions and their logic, and it also makes her worry that perhaps four days isn’t long enough. Gaila had said this Ponn Farr thing lasted eight days, or maybe it was that he only had eight days before it killed him? She yelps and blinks down at him, realizes that he was displeased with her lack of attention and tilts her head to one side, realizing that he’d bitten her just above her hipbone, hard enough to leave a mark. She stares down at the mark and then up at him, his gaze hard and determined as daring her to deny him.

               She rolls her hips in response, watches the pleased look warm his features as he keeps his gaze on her face and rolls his tongue across her hip and over the place where he’d bitten her. For a moment she sees something in his eyes and wonders what it was, forgets about it the moment she feels his mouth curving over her center, the flat tip of his tongue sliding roughly over the cotton of her underwear.

“Oh _fuck_ …” she bites out, wide eyed and blinking into the darkness of the bedroom.

He does it again and she restrains the urge to curse aloud, digs her nails into the sheets of the bed and mewls in pleasure. She feels the tear of fabric at her hips and watches him idly toss the white scrap of material over one shoulder before returning to his attentions, the rough slide of his tongue against her bare flesh far more satisfying than before. Even his tongue didn’t feel human, the roughness of it creating a delicious friction against her over sensitized nub. She arches her hips towards him, mewling in need as he places his hot palms on her hips and pushes them back down onto the bed, growling in warning as he holds her in place, plundering her body with his mouth. His fingers join his mouth and together then work synchronously until she is keening for him, all plans on rocking _his_ world completely forgotten because he seemed fairly bent on rocking _hers_ instead.

When she is seeing stars he presses his face against her core and inhales, delight written across his handsome features as he slides his tongue over the sweet taste of her, watches her eyes slowly close in pleasure. When she feels the weight of his body making the bed dip beneath her she tries to quell the sudden nervousness she feels, watches him sit on his knees and stare down at her, his black gaze roving over her body hungrily as hot hands curl under her knees and lift her up, pulling her towards him across the bed. Hooking her legs over his hips she stares up at him, feels a strange thrill of nervousness and excitement at the same time. She licks her lips anxiously, watches his eyes follow the path of her tongue. For a moment she sees something in his eyes, a flicker of awareness as he gazes down on her, raising her hips up against his until she feels the heat of him pressing against her entrance. His gaze is suddenly full of many emotions, emotions that she’s never seen a Vulcan display physically. Though his expression is full of hunger and desire, his eyes are full of apology…guilt….and a deep sense of _gratitude_. He was grateful for what she was doing for him. She blinks at him and in response she slides her hand over the one he has on her left hip, forming her fingers into the ozh’esta as she gently brushes her fingertips over the back of his hand.

               She could have sworn he almost _smiled_ at her response, but then it was gone. The awareness she saw had dissipated, the last of Sarek’s control was slipping as she felt him push forward, the wide girth of him stretching her to the point of pain. She grits her teeth, gasps at the sensation of his body stretching hers. She closes her eyes, turning her face to one side as she tries to manage the pain. He relents almost immediately, the feel of him pulling out and then slowly pushing back in, over and over again as he eases himself into her gently. She is panting softly by the time he pulls back and then thrusts hard, seating himself into her fully. She keens at the sensation of being so full, arches her hips up towards him as his pelvis pressed against hers. After a short pause he pulls back and rocks his hips into hers again, watching her face intently as he moves. She is trembling as one of his hands leaves her hip and entangles itself in one of hers, pushing his need and his desire at her, filling her with warmth and comfort and deep gratitude. Then she hears his thoughts, a single desire not nearly as loud as the others but loud enough for her to hear it; _look at me_ she hears him demand, knows that it is not a request. She realizes now that Sarek is fighting for control, fighting for his logic but cannot break free from the driving need of Ponn Farr, that he needs this to survive. It only urges her onward, her eyes snapping open and meeting his possessive gaze, rocking her hips against his and letting out a low moan of pleasure at the wonderful friction between them. He shifts his position so that he seats himself into her deeper, rocks his hips a little harder against hers.

_/Yesyesyesyes…../_

She vaguely heard herself saying through the link, pushing her pleasure towards him as she keeps her gaze upon his face and keens once more. She is being swallowed up by heat and need; his body was like fire burning inside of her, her skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

/ _yes…yes…that’s it beautiful one…come upon my lok…/_

She gasps at the sound of his rough voice echoing in her mind, pants heavily as his fingers slide along hers and tighten. The way he speaks to her so intimately sends a fresh wave of arousal down to pool between her thighs, makes her arch her back and gasp his name.

/ _yes…yes…look at me…know that it is I who you belong to…/_

He whispers in her mind and shifts his weight, rising up and dragging her towards him as he raises her hips up and hooks his arms under her knees. She whines in pleasure, mewls as he closes his eyes and tips his head back, holding her in place with his arms as he pounds his body into her soft flesh. He was starting to get rougher now, a little less controlled. She would be lying if she were to say the grip he had on her didn’t hurt, for his grip was very tight and she was sure to have bruises later on. They go on like this for what feels like hours, the tortuous feel of his heated body against hers, forcing himself deeper and deeper into her until the pain began to blur with the pleasure, like a water color painting left out in the rain. 

               Suddenly he pulls out of her and she whimpers at the loss, gasps as he flips her over without preamble and grabs her hips, dragging her back towards him as he grips the back of her neck and pushes her down into the mattress. She yelps at the sharp hold he has on her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. The pain intensifies when he buries himself in her without warning, deeper than he had been before and she closes her eyes, muffles her moans and cries into the mattress as he takes her roughly, harder than before and without control.  He is frantic now, panting heavily as he leans down and covers her body, his teeth sinking into the back of her neck. She counteracts his weight by rising to her elbows, spreads her legs farther apart to allow him better access.

               When he finds his release he snarls into her skin, his teeth sinking deeper into her flesh. She whimpers as she angles her hips higher, lets him bury himself completely.

/ _Yes…beautiful one…yes…_ /

She feels herself break apart around him, gasps at the sudden and consuming release of her own. She is floating amongst the stars, her vision blackening with the force of her release. She feels him inside of her, the burn of his release making him twitch against her, tiny increments of movement from his hips as he pushes into her as deeply as he can and holds her firmly in place. She feels the heavy scolding heat of his _khrasaya_ filling her and it sends another jolt of arousal through her, causes her to moan into the mattress as she pushes her hips back against his. She feels his fingers brush against her face and she blearily pulls from her silent revelry, her brain still foggy and unfocused from their latest activities. There had been something she was supposed to do…

_Crap!_

It hits her like a tidal wave, struggles not to panic as she grabs at his hands where they had been sliding towards her psi points.  He snarls in response, scowls down at her as he rocks his hips into hers sharply.

_/mine/_

It is a statement and not a request, a deep warning growl vibrating in his chest as he slides his hands against hers and pushes his confusion at her, his desperate need to bond.  She swallows thickly and tries to sit up, realizes that she is not exactly in a good position to fend off his advances but he won’t let her, uses the hot weight of his body to hold her in place. He releases her neck and nuzzles the side of her cheek with his nose, inhales deeply as he takes in her scent.

/ _patience…_ /

Nyota croons back to him through the link between their hands, sends him warmth and reassurance as she rocks her hips against his. He doesn’t seem satisfied though as he sharply pushes against her hips again, his body still buried in hers.

/ ** _mine_** /

She doesn’t know what to do at first. Spock has never behaved like this with her; she doesn’t understand the mating rituals of Vulcan society outside of the norm that she has experienced with Spock.

_Really gotta stop thinking about Spock when you’re fucking his father Uhura…_

Quietly she ponders this, whimpers when he thrusts against her hips sharply once more, this time with more force and a little more pain. His mental statement seems almost like a demand, though it is a statement it sounded as if it required a response…

_/yours….yours!/_

She gasps out in his mind at a particularly sharp thrust, understanding etched across her features. Suddenly he is pleased, a deep purr vibrating against her back as he nuzzles her face and relents from her body. He rolls to one side and hooks his arm around her, dragging her across the bed and to his side. She is suddenly very tired; her body aching and sore as she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

She doesn’t know what time it is when she feels him stir, blinking sleepily up at the overheated Vulcan beside her. He’s staring down at her with a mixture of awe and guilt, watches her watching him thoughtfully.

“Are you….you again?” Nyota asks cautiously, watches the amusement dance in his eyes as he responds.

“I am myself again,” he says with a faint nod, “although the blood fever still rages within me…I have however obtained a fair amount of control once more.”

“How?” Nyota says with a soft frown, realizes that her chest is quite revealed to him and wonders why she’s suddenly feeling modest about it. It isn’t like this man hadn’t just been all over her body, so why the sudden sense of modesty?

“Our recent activities have soothed the fever for now…but it will return,” Sarek explains as he watches the emotions dance across her face, “I apologize for this Ms. Uhura…I had not intended for you to be dragged into this.”

“I agreed to it,” she responds, watches the guilt etch itself across his features, “You didn’t force me.”

“I am aware of that,” he frowns, “from what I remember you tried very hard to resist my advances…until such a time that resisting became illogical.”

“You would have died,” Nyota argues gently, “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I’m not sure I understand why we have stopped moving,” Sarek says quietly after a long pause as he gazes around the bedroom, “I do not hear the engines.”

“The warp drive went out…we’ve only got forward thrusters so far…so we won’t reach New Vulcan any time soon.”

“This is why you…agreed to this then? You feared for my life?” Sarek surmises, watching her intently as she nods.

“We would have never made it to New Vulcan in time…and you seemed….” She pauses, a blush creeping up into her cheeks as she tears her gaze from his to stare at his chest instead, “intent upon me.”

“I am,” he begins slowly, as if admitting something personal and found it difficult to say, “I am honored that you would have me…” he tells her, slides his fingers through her dark hair as he speaks, “That someone so remarkable as you would be willing to do this for me.”

He falls silent then and she doesn’t dare look at him, instead amuses herself with her observation of his chest, watches the way it moves as he breathes. She feels the nervous flutter of butterflies in her stomach at his words, a blush creeping across her cheeks. For some reason to have somebody like Sarek say such beautiful things to her, touched her in such a deep way she felt a little smile curving her lips.  He inhales sharply and stiffens, her gaze snapping up to his as he closes his eyes and appears to be smothering pain beneath the surface of his forced calm.

“I must…” he breathes out quietly, “I must…”

“I know,” she murmurs, watching him struggle not to give into his more primitive urges. The _blood fever_ as he calls it was taking control again, driving the logic from his mind once more.  Bravely she leans up and kisses him, slides her tongue against his lips as his eyes snap open and widen, strong arms gripping her hips as he tilts his head to the side and pushes his tongue into her mouth, tasting and touching her as he pushes her down onto the mattress beneath him. She can feel the guilt and the apology through their intertwined fingers, can feel how grateful and eager he is as he slides his tongue across her jawline and nips at her shoulder before biting down into the soft flesh, making her gasp and widen her eyes. He thrusts into her at the same time, taking her with a pace that leaves her breathless.

Much later she is seated atop him, watching him watch her with his mercurial gaze. Repeatedly he tries to touch her face and she has to stop him, bats his hands away as he chuffs in irritation. He whines at her after her third refusal, pins his hands under her calves as she slowly rides him, watches his expression change from irritation to bliss, rolling his hips up against hers roughly.

They speak rarely; he can’t seem to get the words out anymore and is reduced to his base urges, his mind fogged by the blood fever. Sometimes though, in rare moments of awareness he’ll speak to her, he’ll croon such intimate words in her ear that she’s certain will make her orgasm just by hearing him say it.

_/yes…yes…let me touch you…let me fill you…/_

His words were like electricity racing up and down her spine, the idea of _Sarek_ of all people saying such things to her, whispering such dirty words in Vulcan in her ears and in her mind.

Eventually other urges called to her, urges like the need for food, for a bath and for sleep. He acquiesced to these urges, allowed her sleep and followed her to the bathroom where he hovered just by the door as if he thought she’d be assailed by some random Vulcan male hiding in his closet if she went unattended.  She scowls at him when he refuses to budge from his place by the door and lets out a giggle when she throws a towel at him, watches it flutter over his head with a faint rush of air. He scowls back at her as he yanks the towel off of his head, tosses it over his shoulder as she cleans herself up and turns on the shower. Her body is bruised and bitten in places that she’s not sure she’ll be able to explain, admires the strange places that he’s bitten her like her calf, her ankle, and just above her hips.

               The shower was an entirely new experience, watches him stare at her with mild irritation as she washes his hair and laughs at his low hum of warning, slides her tongue along his cheek to sooth his irritation with her. He presses her against the shower wall half-way through, slides her up his body to settle her against his waist and takes her against the wall, pounding into her with enough force that she’s certain they’ll be new bruises on her back later. He bites down on her shoulder as the hot water slides across their skin, leaving a slippery delightful friction between them that makes her scream out his name shortly after, feeling herself shatter around him as he growls into her skin.

               Hours later she is awoken from sleep beside him, unsure of what has awakened her. She listens to his breathing, deep and even and knows he is asleep, finds that she’s never actually seen him sleep before and watches in fascination for several seconds before she hears a voice call her name by the door and glances towards it, spots Kirk watching her with a quirked eyebrow. Immediately she yanks the sheets up over her exposed chest and glares at him, watches him motion towards a tray of food and several bottles of water on the floor by the door. He disappears for a moment and she vaguely hears McCoy’s voice as he mumbles something about a _first aid kit_ and _injuries_ before Kirk’s head appears again, waving a white box labeled _first aid kit_ in his hand. He sets it beside the tray and she nods with a thankful smile on her face.

The sound of a deep angry snarl echoes through the room and she stiffens; feels hot iron bars curling around her waist and yanking her up against a solid frame, watches Kirk’s eyes widen in panic as she glances towards Sarek. His eyes had gone black with rage, and if he had hackles she was certain they would have been rising right about now.

Nyota looks at Kirk and shakes her head with wide eyes, waving him out as she mouths “ _Get Out!”_

Kirk nods and disappears immediately, the sound of the doors shutting and locking into place behind him. Nyota turns to face Sarek, soothes him with soft kisses and nips against his shoulders, slides her hands across his body and presses herself up against him as tightly as she can.

/ _minemineminemine!_ /

She hears him snarling in her mind as he desperately presses her down into the mattress with her stomach against the sheets, grabbing her hips as he holds her in place and reminds her just exactly how much she does in fact belong to him.

_Well not really…she wasn’t going to marry the guy but honestly…she didn’t want to see him die either._

“Yours!” she says allowed, worried that saying it through the link might not be enough this time, “Yours!”

/ _Mine!_ /

She hears him howl through the link, shuddering above her as she feels the heat of his release in her womb.  _So glad I got that pregnancy shot…so glad…._ she thinks to herself as she closes her eyes, shudders a little herself as she relaxes underneath him.

/ _Yours._ /

She agrees through the link, sighing softly as his hands become gentler and slide over her skin soothingly, hears his voice humming words of devotion in Vulcan as he feathers kisses across her back.

It takes her twenty minutes to talk him into letting her out of bed. Twenty minutes of warning growls and irritated chuffing as she inches slowly off the bed and he follows her, his gaze intent upon her face and body as she walks towards the door. Panic seizes him instantly as he curls his arms around her waist and yanks her back away from the door, Nyota letting out an irritated groan of frustration as he settles her against his waist. She frowns up at him and points at the tray, touching his skin with her palms as she thinks about what she wants.

/ _hungry…food…..tray….need…./_

Abruptly he dumps her on the bed and then goes to retrieve the tray, she watches as he picks at it cautiously like it might bite him. She can’t surprise the giggle as he picks up the white box and sniffs at it, realizes that he must really be deeply in the thrall of the blood fever to be unaware of the first aid kits uses.

When he sets the tray on the bed she immediately tears into the food, all vegetables (which was probably Spock’s doing) because there was more than she could eat and understood that this was probably for both of them. She motions to the tray as she picks up a fork and hands it to him, watches him stare at the fork and then toss it to the ground before grabbing a handful of vegetables.

“Ok…” Nyota says as she watches him eat, eyes widening at his behavior before shrugging and picking up a fork of her own, digging into the sautéed vegetables and a big bowl of what appeared to be plomeek soup.

After the food was gone and Nyota had gotten to drink at least one bottle of water she opened up the medical box and examined the contents. McCoy had thought to fill it with antiseptic, bandages, and pain hypo’s. Sarek is lying on the bed beside her, watching her rummage through the box. His fingers are curled along her back, drawing lazy circles across her skin and she glances back at him, smirking slightly as she takes his hand and kisses the pads of his fingers, watches his pupils dilate in response.

Curiously she sucks on the tip, watches his mouth drop open as she sucks the length of his finger into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. His reaction is instantaneous and forceful, pouncing on her as he knocks the food and medical supplies off the bed in his ardor. Nyota can’t suppress the laugh as he pins her beneath him and frantically touches her, his hot insistent kisses bruising against her lips and any other place he could reach.

               Later when he was sated and watching her with sleepy content eyes she uses the medical supplies to tend to the bite marks on her skin. Silently she wonders how long this will last, wonders if it will really last the full eight days. His fingers are curling over her thigh as she ponders this, trying to ignore the fevered touch because every time he touched her she just wanted to jump on top of him again.

“Three,” he says so quietly she almost didn’t hear it, his voice was rough from disuse and she glances back at him, watches the awareness creeping into his eyes, “I’d been under the thrall of the blood fever for three days…and when I reached plak-tow….when you came to me and we consummated….it usually lasts three days.”

“I see,” Nyota says allowed, thinking about what he has told her. They’d been in here for a day and a half already, which meant they still had a long way to go.

She could see he was struggling for control again, blinking away the fever from his eyes as he tugs on her thigh to pull her closer to him. She sets the medical supplies down and crawls across the bed towards him, curls up in his embrace and lays her head on his shoulder.

“Have I injured you?” he inquires, glancing down at the bruised bite marks on her skin.

“I’ll be alright,” Nyota says into his neck as she nuzzles his throat reassuringly, “You haven’t hurt me.”

He seems to stiffen and she frowns, senses through the connection of their entwined fingers that he feels angry with himself, disgruntled by his lack of logic and control. He is disgusted with himself, hates that he has dragged her into this. Nyota nips at his shoulder to get his attention and his thoughts slow to a grinding halt, turning her chin up to meet his gaze as he glances down at her, “Stop thinking like that…you haven’t hurt me…I agreed to this…you didn’t force me into this.”

“I am…you…” he stammers, struggling to find the words.

“I am your son’s ex-girlfriend and you and I have been having sex for the past day and a half. I get it…I really do,” Nyota says gently as she catches his chin and turns his face towards her, making him look at her, “You feel guilty because I had once dated your son and you also feel guilty because you feel like you forced me into this.”

He frowns down at her and she catches something through the link, blinks up at him and smiles gently, feels deep compassion for him as she sends him warmth and comfort through the link, “I don’t think you’re too _old_ for me Sarek…” she says as she kisses his jaw line, “I don’t find you dissatisfying in the least.”

“I am not as young as I once was,” he murmurs against her lips as she nips at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth, “I fear that you will not find me as… _pleasant_ ….I am set in my ways…I am not like my son.”

“I know,” she whispers against his mouth as she slides her tongue against his, hears the tiny hum of pleasure in the back of his throat as he responds in kind, plundering her sweet mouth and rolling the taste of her across his tongue. Gently she slides into his lap, knees on either side of his thighs as she lowers herself onto him, tilts her head back and gasps out his name as her eyes close in bliss.

“Yes…” he hissed softly, his fingers digging into her hips, “ _Yes_ ….”

“ _Sarek_ ,” she pants aloud, letting him set the pace as he rolls his hips up against hers, watches the expressions play across her face.

“Yes…yes beautiful one…that’s it…come on my _lok…_ ” he breaths aloud, words that he’d echoed earlier in her mind that now sound suddenly far more erotic out loud, sound strange and alien when spoken in a mixture of Vulcan and federation standard.

The idea that this man was currently in control of his faculties made the heat intensify between them, made it seem that much more arousing. He was panting filthy words to her, dirty things in Vulcan and standard that caused a full body blush. She whimpers aloud as he thrusts sharply, gasping his name loudly as she tilts her head back and closes her eyes, stars bursting behind her eye lids as she clenches down around him and feels the heat of his release filling her body.

That was quite possibly the best sex she’s _ever_ had.

She slumps against him and he cradles her in his arms, nuzzling the side of her face as he murmurs sweet devotion in the old high tongue of the V’tosh in her ears. From her knowledge of that particular dialect she still finds that she doesn’t know what he’s saying. Some of the words were lost to her, some that Spock couldn’t teach her because it is forbidden. These words were probably the ones they used before the time of Surak, words that were filled with the emotions that they had suppressed and cast out of them for the sake of preserving logic.

“You are very knowledgeable about my people Ms. Uhura,” Sarek comments idly and she blushes, a faint smile curving her lips as she presses her face into his neck as she realizes he probably heard her thoughts.

“I have been studying the Vulcan culture since I began at the Academy,” she tells him gently, “and my name is Nyota.”

“Nyota,” he says, and she finds she likes the way her name curls across his tongue as he says it, “I wasn’t aware that the high tongue was being taught at the academy. I was under the impression that it was sacred and forbidden to anyone outside of my species.”

“Spock taught me,” she says quietly against his skin, “some of the words…enough to have a conversation but not all of it.”

“I see,” Sarek says in response and she can tell there is a hint of disproval in his voice. He is displeased that his son would do such a thing but currently can’t find it in him to be angry about it. Outsiders were forbidden to the language and yet he was pleased that she could understand some of the things he was saying. After a long while the only sound in the room was their breathing as they relax in the darkness. Finally Sarek breaks that silence and speaks, knows that what he has to say must be said eventually, “I do not…I have never….lain with a woman who was not my intended,” he begins gently, knows that what he has to say might scare her just a little; “I wish to rectify this matter.”

Nyota stiffens fractionally, forces herself to relax against him and smiles against his skin as she answers him, “Buy me dinner first.”

“This is a human phrase that implies the need for arrangements yes? You wish for me to court you?” He presses, frowning down at the human in his arms. She was baffling even when he was completely in control of his faculties, his logic was twisting and turning her words like it was a complex math problem he couldn’t solve.

“Yes,” Nyota says against his skin softly, “however I only meant in this instance that I…” she says and pauses, leaning up on her elbows to look down at him, “I’m not ready to get married….we don’t even know each other.”

“If you fear that you will not be able to continue your work aboard the enterprise you need not be, I will allow you to continue your commission here…and it will be seven years before our union would commence,” he points out, watching the emotions play across her face.

“Sarek,” Nyota sighs and closes her eyes, trying to find a way to reason with his logic, “Your son would be most displeased.”

“My son would accept it… _kaiidth_ …” he tells her softly in V’tosh, “You agreed to be mine.”

“I…” Nyota says in exasperation as she watches the earnest look on his face start to disintegrate and slowly become stoic and determined, “I was scared for your life…I would have done what I had to, to save you.”

“It is the way of my people,” he presses with a frown curving his lips, “it would be considered shameful not to take you as my bride and furthermore in the eyes of my people you would be considered as one who were disgraced…I would not have that for you.”

“Your people would more or less be calling me a hooker?” Nyota says with raised eyebrows.

“We do not mate with one who is not our intended…” Sarek says reluctantly, “it is not our way….sex is for reproductive purposes alone however that doesn’t prevent bondmates from engaging in it for physical gratification. In my society we do not lay with another until our time of bonding, until we are married.”

“And this…blood fever is kind of like getting married…” Nyota surmises.

“Precisely,” Sarek nods, “Though because we are unbonded it is…unheard of.”

Nyota nods thoughtfully, contemplating the archaic ideas of Vulcan society in silence. It makes sense she supposes, but while she respects his people’s ways he must also respect hers. She won’t just marry him because he thinks it’s the most logical thing to do, because he feels obligated to uphold her virtue. She wants to marry for love, and wants Sarek to marry someone he loves. It just wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Nyota watches him, tilting her head to one side and fighting the urge to smile at seeing his determined face. He was so _stubborn_ , she thinks to herself with mild amusement.

“It runs in my family I assure you,” Sarek comments idly at her thoughts and she can’t help the soft laughter bubbling up from her throat.

“Buy me dinner first,” she reiterates and he watches her for a moment, as if debating her words before he nods, “I shall endeavor to do so.”

               They had eventually agreed not to bond until a time that she felt comfortable doing so, though Sarek reminded her repeatedly that she’d _already_ agreed to it technically by agreeing to mate with him. For the sake of her human customs he did not bond with her, though it was a struggle to keep him from trying to when he was no longer in control of his faculties again. A day and a half later had seen them twice on the carpet, once on the couch and once on top of the coffee table. Early in the morning of the fourth day she wakes and finds herself alone, notices that the door to the room he uses for mediation is closed and curls into the spot where he’d been lying. When he returns he sees her asleep in his bed and watches her thoughtfully before going into the bathroom to shower.

               While he’s in the shower she wakes and climbs out of bed, quickly gathering her clothes and pulling them on. She borrows one of his shirts because hers was torn to shreds and quickly scampers to the door, hearing the sound of it unlocking just as she approaches. McCoy is waiting on the other side as the doors swing open and she waves him away as he tries to scan her with his tricorder, dismissing his demands that she come to the medical bay immediately for a check-up.

“I’m fine,” she hisses back to him, “where are we?”

“In orbit above New Vulcan,” he tells her as they enter the turbolift.

“Crap,” she says with wide eyes, panic ripping through her, “Nobody can know about this…this kind of scandal would ruin his career….I need to just….get ready for my shift.”

“Yeah,” McCoy nods as he watches her, “I was going to tell you that…Jim told the crew you took some time off. Anyone who was curious about the Ambassador was told he’d requested privacy and was to be left alone so he can work on his ambassadorial duties.”

“Crap,” she says as her sore muscles ache, scrambling towards the door to her quarters, “Ok look…I need to get showered and get changed…I can’t be seen like this,” she tells him pointedly as she checks the deserted corridors once more…thankfully it was way too early for anyone to see her, “I’ll meet you on the bridge…we’ll play this out nice and smooth…nobody will ever find out…I went on break…and when I show up on the bridge I’m gonna look presentable,” she says as she snatches the derma-regenerator out of his hands before he can even say anything to offer it, “I’ll heal what I can and you can do the rest once the ambassador has disembarked. I don’t want this getting out Len,” she says as she points at him, “were going to make this work.”

“Uhura you haven’t slept properly in _three days_ ,” McCoy says with a raised eyebrow as he watches her open the door to her quarters and she turns to smile at him, “That’s why you’re going to bring me lots of strong coffee while I’m on duty until the ambassador disembarks.”

“Ok,” McCoy says begrudgingly, “but you’d better get your butt down to medical the moment the ambassador sets foot on the New Vulcan ground.”

“Gotcha,” Nyota winks and disappears into her room, shutting the door behind her.

               In the bathroom she stands before the full length mirror, examining the bites and bruises that mar her skin. Three days they’d spent in each other’s arms, she was fairly certain there were remnants of his _excitement_ in her hair and all over her stomach and back. She climbs into the shower and she can’t help but recall one particular incident on the bathroom floor hours before in his quarters, when they’d just finished from another energetic bout of lovemaking and he decided to smear his _kyrasaya_ across her stomach, his fingers splaying across her skin as he smears it over each breast, massaging and rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger before reaching up and sliding them into her mouth. She sucks the evidence of his desire off the pads of his fingers, his dark gaze boring into hers as if daring her to knock his hand away. There was pure unadulterated claim in his eyes, a hard determination to show her that she belonged to _him_.

               An hour later she is freshly showered and healed, her hair swept up into a neat ponytail and her uniform pressed and clean as she steps onto the bridge. She smiles at the people who welcome her back, professional and polite as ever. She sits down at her station and puts the comm unit in her ear, begins her morning shift as Spock stiffens infinitesimally beside her. Nobody who knew how to read Vulcan body language would have missed it. She knows why he’s stiffened, watches from the corner of her eyes as his nostrils flare and he inhales deeply, taking in her scent. She knows that he can smell his father all over her, and tries very hard not to blush. The tips of his ears have flushed bright green as he works, keeping his eyes focused intently on the screen in front of him as if nothing of consequence had just been discovered. Granted she wasn’t fooled into thinking that he hadn’t already known, wouldn’t have been fooled by her sudden need for a vacation.

Behind her the turbolift doors swing open and the Ambassador steps out, Kirk greets him with professional politeness and informs him that a shuttle is being prepared to drop him off on New Vulcan as they speak. He wishes the ambassador good health and is glad to see him recovered before politely excusing himself back to his chair. McCoy appears shortly after and stops by her station, handing her a cup of coffee. Nyota smiles up at him gratefully and takes the proffered cup, closing her eyes as she savors the deep rich taste of coffee across her tongue.

She goes through her usual routine, checks the updates on her PADD and informs Vulcan high command of their presence and about the shuttle preparation for the Ambassador. Nyota focuses on the tasks at hand and tries not to think about the man who was standing about eight feet behind her, a man that she has just done very _dirty_ things with. A man who stands like a statue, the perfect example of Vulcan stoicism behind a mask of calm reserve on the bridge as if he hadn’t just spent the last three days having hot and sweaty sex with her in his quarters.

They do not speak to one another nor make eye contact; Nyota is keenly aware of how careful she must be to give anyone any ideas that they might have been involved during the time she was supposedly on _vacation_.

               When the Ambassador had finally disembarked she spent the next half hour in sick-bay, watching McCoy flutter around her like a panicked mother hen checking to see that her child was alright. He heals the bite marks she couldn’t reach and bandages up any cuts or scrapes she might have received during some of the more adventurous sexual excursions she took with the Ambassador.

               Things fall back to normal on the Enterprise, the ship gets repaired and they leave New Vulcan, continuing on to other planets and star systems. A month goes by and she quietly wonders about the Ambassador. He had wanted to marry her at one point, had insisted they do so. She recalls when he agreed to take her to dinner and she begins to think with a combination of relief and disappointment that maybe he’d changed his mind.

It was for the best anyways.

They were from two different worlds, he was Spock’s father and her marrying Sarek would probably make things really awkward between them. She is startled from her revelry in the mess hall, pouring over a PADD in her hands as she examines the duty rosters. Gaila comes bounding towards her, dropping down in the seat opposite from her.

“You should go to your quarters _right now_ ,” Gaila says with a big grin on her face.

“Why?” Nyota asks with a curious look on her face, setting the PADD down on the table in front of her.

“You just should,” Gaila grins at her, “I think Spock left you a little gift.”

“I doubt that,” Nyota chuckles and shakes her head, “Gaila I’m totally alright with Spock dating Kirk…it’s ok…. _really_ …I want him to be _happy_.”

“Mmm…but maybe he just feels a little guilty because he broke your heart? Either way…you should go to your quarters,” Gaila says as she eats a French-fry off of Nyota’s plate.

“I will in a minute,” Nyota says as she waves Gaila off, returning to her work. Five minutes go by and Gaila is still staring at her, her gaze shifting between the PADD in her hands and her face. Nyota groans in irritation and looks up at her, “Fine, let’s go.”

“Ok!” Gaila says cheerfully with a beaming smile and stands, following Nyota back to her quarters.

When they reach her quarters she unlocks the door and enters, blinking as she stares around the room. Gaila rushes past her into the living room, grinning as she circles the coffee table. “ _Look_!”

On the coffee table sat a beautiful Vulcan glass pot, decorated in gold V’tosh writing. It was filled with water and inside it were a dozen purple Vulcan orchids.  Nyota stares for a moment, her mouth hanging open in wonder.

“They so _beautiful_ ,” Gaila breaths in wonder.

“They’re Vulcan Orchids,” Nyota breaths in response, awed by such a beautiful gift. Vulcan orchids had become difficult to find after the destruction of Vulcan, “They’re rare and priceless…” Nyota trails off, feeling a faint blush creeping over her cheeks at the metaphor that she is certain Sarek meant to make with this gift. She knows that these are from him without a doubt.

“Wait a minute,” Gaila says and freezes in place, regarding her best friend intently, “These aren’t from Spock are they?”

“I don’t know the card’s not signed,” Nyota says vaguely and shrugs, picking up the neatly folded card from its place nestled within the flowers. She flips open the tiny piece of smooth white paper and written in neatly painted Vulcan script it read ‘ _Let’s arrange to have dinner_.’

“Wait a minute…I know when you’re lying to me Nyota Uhura….” Gaila says as her eyes widen in shock and surprise, “You weren’t on vacation were you…you were with the _Ambassador_!”

“Shhhh!” Nyota scowls at her friend, “Keep your voice down the sound proofing isn’t on…and yes…yes I was…and _no_ …no you can’t tell _anyone_.”

“Oh wow!” Gaila laughs, tears streaming down her face as she tumbles over onto the couch behind her, “Oh…you…. _wow_.”

“Oh shut up!” Nyota says with a half-smile, whacking her friend in the leg with a cushion, “it’s not that funny.”

“You slept with the Ambassador…helped him in his time of _need_ ….endured the effects of _Pon’Age_!”

“Gaila…”

“So was he any good? Is be bigger than Spock ?...Are full Vulcans different from Half-Vulcans?”

“Gaila…” Nyota sighs in exasperation.

“What?” Gaila pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I’m not discussing the Ambassadors sex life with you…and furthermore this has to stay a secret…his career depends on it.”

“Ok _Ok_ ,” Gaila says with a nod, wiping the tears from her eyes and then suddenly looks very somber “but seriously….how was he?”

“Gaila!”

~Finis~

_(Continues in the sequel 'Buy Me Dinner First.')_


End file.
